When I decided to keep a journal as part of my planned bike ride across the country — from Los Angeles to Massachusetts — I certainly didn’t expect I’d start writing at Gate G-13 in the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. But here I am, with the full-fledged start of my journey just two days away, on Friday, April 1.
I’m about to get on my connecting flight back to my home in L.A. after attending my oldest sister’s funeral in Rock Island, Illinois, near our hometown. As some of you may know, Mary had been a nun in the Order of St. Benedict for 55 years. She died from cancer this past Sunday, on March 27, eight days short of her 74th birthday. Mary was the second-oldest of my four siblings, two years younger than my brother, Jim, and 12 years older than me. I’m the youngest. Sisters Lois and Rita are nine and three years older, respectively.
Ever since Mary informed us several months ago that a tumor growing in her lungs was inoperable and she would be preparing for her death, I’d been worrying about how to plan for this adventure that I’ve dreamed of since I was 16 and have been intently planning for the last few years. I didn’t like the idea of putting a trip that is all about me ahead of honoring Mary when her time came. Should I delay the trip? Postpone it to next year? I didn’t want to find out she'd died when I was somewhere in Arizona, New Mexico, West Texas, etc., and have to figure out whether I could stop everything and get to an airport for a flight to attend her funeral. That question became more critical just over a week ago, when Mary told me by phone that she’d had an episode the previous night that almost took her life. She knew she was in her final days and wanted to say she loved me before she passed (she had already lost her desire to eat — another sign her body was shutting down). I told her I loved her too and joked that she should send us a sign when she got to the other side. She said she would keep that in mind and would try to come up with something creative. I haven’t picked up on anything yet. Then again, Mary wasn’t the best at returning emails and phone calls, either.
Sunday evening Rita called with the news. Shortly after Rita had returned home after one of her daily visits to Mary’s room at the Benedictines’ St. Mary Monastery — where Mary was in an unresponsive “sleep state” — Mary passed away peacefully. The sisters were arranging the funeral, which because of the pandemic would be private and held at the monastery with only masked and fully vaccinated family members and a handful of Mary’s friends allowed to attend. Time was extremely short, but I asked that, if possible, could they please hold the funeral on Wednesday — the only day I would be able to attend and still have a chance of starting my bike trip on schedule. (I’ll get to why that schedule is so important later.) I’m grateful to the sisters for working with the funeral home to make it happen, I’m also thankful to Jim and Lois and their spouses, who prefer driving to flying but accommodated my request for a prompt funeral and hauled ass from their respective homes in Spokane, Washington, and New Bedford, Massachusetts. Jim (a former long-haul trucker) and his wife, Angie, left Spokane at 4 a.m. Monday. Lois and her husband, Steve, got on the road at about the same time in New Bedford. I flew from Los Angeles Tuesday morning and arrived at the Quad-Cities Airport in Moline, Illinois, at about 4:30 p.m. Rita picked me up and drove me to her place. A few minutes later, Jim, Angie and then Lois and Steve pulled into her driveway as well. We all made it to the sisters’ 7 p.m. prayer service for Mary. The funeral was at 10 a.m. today, followed by a short service at the cemetery and lunch back at the monastery. I had just a couple hours before Rita drove me back to the Moline airport for a 5:30 p.m. flight home (with this change of planes in the Twin Cities).
I’m so glad my siblings and I were able to attend. We heard wonderful stories from the sisters and the funeral Mass’s presiding priest about all the important work Mary had done for their community, and her infectious warmth, humor, compassion and creativity that made her a stellar teacher at all grade levels, but especially with high school teenagers. One of Mary’s former students, whom she taught at an all-girls academy in the 1970s, told us that “Sister Mary was a hoot! All the girls loved her!” (That kind of sentiment was echoed in more than 100 comments posted on the announcement of Mary’s passing on the Benedictine sisters’ Facebook page.)
———
I’m now on my flight to Los Angeles with a full heart. I’m proud of Mary and admire the life she lived. Her life was not without struggles, but she found ways to find joy and share it with others. She made a difference in countless people’s lives. She lived her dream.
And now, for my dream of completing a cross-country bike ride, she's provided one heck of a great send-off. I still have quite a few odds and ends to finish before leaving — things I was going to do in two days I'll have to scurry about to finish in one morning. But after all my worries, Mary ended up giving me a blessing — an emotional tailwind, if you will — that I know will be with me through some very challenging miles ahead.
So, let’s get rolling!
Contact me: Thoughts or comments? Email me at richardridesusa@gmail.com.
I ride with MS: Support the spirit of my ride with a donation to the Multiple Sclerosis Association of America. Click here.
If you are interested in following me live: https://share.garmin.com/findrich